Weight of a Momento
by HerenyaHope
Summary: Sometimes small things can have a heavy weight. Little drabble with Solas and my Dalish mage. Solas/Inquisitor


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **** A drabble I wrote after spending my winter break playing DA: I which I am in love with!**

"What are these?" Inquisitor Levellan turned to look at Solas, her blue eyes widening when she realized what he was doing.

"Don't touch those!" Quick as a jackrabbit she jumped up and snatched her bag from the older elf, snapping shut the front pocket that he had been looking into.

"What's the matter?" Solas asked. He observed with an eyebrow quirked as the pale woman retreated to her seat on the log the two had been sharing.

"N-nothing," the Inquisitor stuttered.

"Does it have to do with this?" The she-elf blushed when Solas showed her the glass Halla statue between his fingers.

"It fell out when you decided to pounce on me," he explained, his face neutral while his voice portrayed his amusement.

Levellan looked ready to give him a lie, but realizing she'd been had, the she-elf sighed. She opened the front pocket of her pack and thrust it in front of the other mage, revealing the collection of Halla figures inside.

Solas chuckled. "Why are you embarrassed?" he asked, seeing the look on her face that resembled a child who had been caught doing something naughty.

"I'm not embarrassed," she denied, though the blush on her normally pale cheeks said otherwise.

"Well then, if you are not embarrassed, could you tell me why you have these? I find myself curious."

The Dalish elf bowed her head.

"You'll think it foolish," Levellan muttered, hugging her bag, and her Hallas, to her chest.

"Nimwen."

The Inquisitor looked up. It was obvious the apostate was wondering whether or not he should be worried, evident by the curious concern in his narrow eyes, but he still bore one of his subtle gentle smiles; it somehow managed to express all the sincerity and honest heart that the Inquisitor had come to love about him.

She held out her hand, and her fellow mage placed the glass figure into her palm.

"I started collecting these at Haven," she explained. She fiddled with the Halla in her hand, watching how the afternoon sun bounced off the glass surface.

"They reminded me of back home, with my clan. When the Keeper would give me scrolls to study I would read them in the shade of this one tree that was in the middle of the Halla pen. The woman who tended the Halla let me stay there if I helped her feed them."

Her face was taken by nostalgia.

"I didn't always get along with the other children in the clan. _"Too much of a pushover, and a goody-two shoes as well!"_ they'd say."

"Maker forbid, a well behaved child!" Solas gasped sarcastically. This made Nimwen giggle.

"They weren't entirely wrong though, I was the tattle-tell kid in my clan. That was probably why I had more fun being around the Halla than my peers. There was one, a little calf, who liked to curl up next to me while I read. She would sometimes try to eat the corners of my scrolls!"

She smiled sadly at the little Halla in her hand.

"I like having these with me. I can look at them and all of a sudden I'm hearing the sound of Halla calling, the smell of their feed, trying to get Halla spit out of my paper before the Keeper saw a big wet spot on her scroll…"

As her voice drifted off, the happy grin slowly fell until she visibly slumped, staring at the figurine with longing in her pale blue eyes.

"Sometimes I think I'm going to wake up and be back in my aravel, and that this is all a dream. Even if I didn't always get along with all of them, I miss my clan. I've never been away from them for so long, even now it's still hard."

She ran a hand through her hair, tucking the midnight locks behind her pointed ear like she did when she was conflicted.

"Even after all this time I feel like such an outsider, and I guess I just wanted something t-to remind me of h-home-"

The Inquisitor was not expecting the two slightly muscled arms that wrapped themselves around her, but she welcomed them greatly.

"I cannot relate to what you are feeling, having been on my own for the most part," said Solas, his voice gentle.

"So forgive me if I do not say the right thing."

Nimwen let out a small laugh, blinking back tears she just now realized had accumulated in her eyes.

"You silly man," she sniffed, burying her face in the fabric of his coat.

"You must think I am being ridiculous."

"Not at all," the other elf disagreed.

"I am aware of your opinion of the Dalish-"

"Regardless of my opinion of them, they are your people, and there is nothing wrong with missing your home."

The she-elf hugged her arms around his torso. She felt him rest his chin atop her head, and one of his hands began to stroke her hair.

"Still, I must look like a fool, tearing up in the middle of camp; no so leader-like am I?"

Solas hummed, and pulled away to look the Dalish in the eye.

"Do remember what I said, that day on the balcony?"

The Inquisitor tilted her head, puzzled.

"I may be paraphrasing, but I believe I told you that you possessed a wisdom that I had never witnessed before outside of the Fade. You are as far away from being a fool as you are from being a poor leader."

Levellan smiled.

"Thank you, Solas," she said. Suddenly her expression changed to a much more mischievous one.

"So, would it be imposing of me to ask you to quote the rest of our conversation on the balcony?"

At first Solas was confused, until his eyes widened in realization, followed by him smirking.

"Not at all, Lady Inquisitor, would another paraphrase suffice?"

Nimwen pretended to contemplate the question, stroking her chin in faux pondering.

"Hmm, no I'm afraid I need more," she said blithely, leaning in.

"A direct citation, in fact."

Solas grinned into the kiss, moving his thin lips against the Inquisitor's full pink ones. She turned her head, desiring a better angle, and wrapped her around the other elf's neck. As she toyed with the fabric of his collar, Solas snaked an arm around her waist and used to pull her closer. Suprised by his unusual forwardness, but certainly not dissaproving of it, the she-elf shifted so that she now sat in his lap, laying her long legs across his knees.

"Eeeew! Go get a room if you're gonna bloody eat each other's faces!"

The two mages' heads snapped up to see a disgusted Sera looking at them like she smelled something foul.

"Oh calm down, Sera," said Nimwen.

"Ever since you too became a thing you've been all lovey-dovey and shit. If you're gonna fuckin' rut take it to your tent so I don't have to see."

Solas blushed at the archer's choice of words, while the Inquisitor just rolled her eyes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Sera pretended to gag.

"Uuuuugh, I'm leaving before you romancy shites start doing it on the log," she groaned, walking away from the couple. Solas tsked, pinching his brow.

"Will she ever mature past eight years old?"

The dark haired elf laughed.

"It's Sera, what did you expect?"

He shook his head. "I suppose it's only wishful thinking."

Reluctantly, Nimwen untangled herself from the other mage and began gathering her things.

"I think we should get ready to head out again, we still have a lot of ground to cover."

"Agreed," replied Solas. He saw that the Inquisitor had placed the glass Halla on the log and picked it up.

"Don't forget this," he said, handing it to her. She reached for it but paused.

"Keep it," she told him, rising to her feet.

"You want me to have it?"

"Sure, I've got too many anyway," she lied poorly.

"I'm going to go check our potion stocks."

As the she-elf walked in the direction of the alchemy table, Solas looked down at the little statue. The corners of his lips curled upwards as he traced the little Halla's horns with his fingertips. The mage reached for his pack and was going to place the figurine in one of the small pouches, but thought better. He undid the clasps and buckles keeping his coat closed, and parted it just enough to deposit the little glass statue in his tunic's breast pocket.

After redoing his coat, he stood and gathered his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his staff. He looked over and saw Nimwen standing by the alchemy table; judging by the looks she was in the middle of stopping an altercation between Sera and Cole.

As he watched her delicate features twist themselves into a lethal scowl to accompany the scolding finger she wagged at the two blondes, a humorous sight given that the two people she was chastising like naughty children were highly trained killers, he was even more aware of the trinket resting above his heart.

Solas welcomed the weight of the memento.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: ****So there is my first Dragon Age fic! I love this game so much, and I really enjoy the romance with Solas. In game my Inquisitor actually does collect Halla figurines, though I had to get rid of some, she still has the glass Halla ^^ I hope that I wrote everyone as in character as possible, including Nimwen, who I play as a kind person who always tries to find the peaceful route, and is proud of her Dalish heritage. **

**REVIEWS FAVS AND FOLLOWS ARE LOVE!**


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